Grant heard a voice as he closed the door to the room.
"You're here."
You could hear the surprise in his voice.
Grant turned to look at him.
The man stood eight feet tall, his arms bulged with muscle.
Grant paled as he saw the mountain of a man in front of him.
"When the patriarch put me in charge of training you, I honestly thought you weren't going to show up."
"I-I-I-I didn't want to make my father angrier than he already was."
Grant stuttered in fear.
'Five!? Weren't most of the instructors level three when I left? He's really pulling out all the stops, isn't he.'
"Let's get down to business. On the mat, please."
The man said as he made his way towards the practice mats in the center of the room.
"What?"
The man turned around and stared at him with a professional gaze.
"The patriarch said I need to train you, but for that to happen I need to know what I'm working with first."
The man threw aside a couple of items that were on him.
"You and I are going to have a sparring match so I can have a feel of your general level. Not that I expect much, with what I've heard."
"B-but your level..."
"And? This is a fight, not a magic duel. Toss any items or weapons aside and get ready."
Grant clutched at his pistol defensively under his cloak.
"But I thought we were doing this to test my competency, what if I was specialized?"
"The way you just phrased that sentence tells me you aren't. Just get up here."
The man stood there with his arms crossed for Grant.
Grant stood there for a second uncertainly before removing all of his items and wrapping them in his cloak. Placing the bundle of items to the side, he took a deep breath and walked to his place on the mats.
'Let's do this.'
They stood several feet apart and had dropped into their respective stances.
Each eyed the other, waiting for the first move. The air tense in anticipation of their fight.
In fact, they weren't the only ones. Someone had placed a mana crystal feed within the room and everyone in the manor was watching.
Then they struck.
His trainer made the first move, rushing in close before launching a sweeping kick at Grant.
Grant was ready though and he easily jumped over it. He went ahead and followed with his own kick that swung directly at the other man's face in mid-air.
Ducking to avoid the kick, he brought his leg up straight towards Grant's groin.
Using his other leg, Grant landed on the kick and launched into a somersault over him. When he was in position, he launched another kick at the man's undefended back.
This one did connect, and both combatants rolled into a defensive crouch.
One because of his landing, and the other to minimize the opening that had been exploited.
Both men stood up; slow and deliberate in their movements. Until they returned to their stances at opposite ends of the mat.
This time both men rushed with shocking speed. As they met each other in the center, the fight descended into a series of attacks, blocking, and dodging.
The trainer was strong and defensive, but he moved slower to compensate for that strength.
Grant, however, was light and quick. He was able to dodge most of the hits thrown, but the ones that did land sent him flying.
Recovering from his latest blow, he studied his opponent with blurred eyes. At that moment he thought one thing.
'He's been going easy on me.'
The trainer had been using a limited set of moves to fight Grant during this time. Like how a character in a fighting game had a specific move set.
'Maybe he's a minimalist fighter? I doubt it, then again it's what I'm doing. Maybe it's because of the rules. Maybe it's all that he needs to beat me, he is a higher level...'
"Hey!"
The trainer cut through his thoughts.
"You've been standing there for a while. Do you need a break or something?"
'Maybe I'm just thinking too much.'
"I'm not gonna fall for bait like that!"
"You could tell? Maybe the rumors were exaggerated. Continue!"
"I was going too."
They sparred until sundown.